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'In at the beginning': A tale of two newcomers to early Victoria

Valerie Green’s Providence tells the story of an orphaned girl from England and a fisherman’s son from Scotland who travel to Victoria in the mid 19th century.

Providence, the first in Valerie Green's four-book historical fiction series The McBride Chronicles, is the story of two parallel lives — Jane Hopkins, an orphaned girl from England, and Gideon McBride, the son of a poor fisherman from Scotland — who separately travel to the New World in search of a better life. Both experience hardship, adventure, intrigue and deception, but above all, a great love, as they each find their way to survive in an unforgiving world.

By the time they first see Victoria, Gideon has become a sea captain. While in San Francisco, he made friends with lawyer Edward Caldwell and his son, James, in addition to Fleure, who was heading to Victoria for a new start.

Jane had left England hoping to find a governess position and had travelled aboard the S.S. Tynemouth, where she met Alice and Mrs. Robb, the matron who took care of all the women aboard.

These are their first impressions of Victoria.

Gideon McBride in 1858:

As we neared Victoria, I felt a shiver of anticipation in my spine; something about this landing made me feel that I was about to become a part of history.

We anchored in Esquimalt and my passengers disembarked. Like us, they walked the rough trail into Victoria because the inner harbor in Victoria could not accommodate larger clippers.

Upon arrival, we discovered thousands of people crowding the town-site circling the fort. It seemed every nationality was represented, and the streets were lined with tents.

The surrounding fields were full of colorful flowers, and a large swamp to the north was crowded with pond lilies and cattails. To the south and east were dense forests of oak, cedar and fir. There were few buildings outside the fort, so we purchased a tent, some food and other necessities, and then made camp away from the densest area.

Fleure made the tent more comfortable with blankets and pallets and then prepared a meal for us over an open fire.

On that first night, we met David Higgins, a writer who had arrived the day before aboard the Sierra Nevada and was camped next to us.

“I was in San Francisco in the early days, too,” he told us. “I wrote a lot about the vigilantes who eventually brought some law and order to that city. It will be the same here, no doubt. It takes a while for a town to settle down and grow.”

“And is that why you are now here in Fort Victoria?” asked Edward, who was still looking a little green around the gills. “Do you enjoy being in at the beginning?”

“Yes, indeed. It’s the start of a new era here in Fort Victoria. I can foresee the Fraser River gold rush as being phenomenal. I want to write about it all,” he added with passion. “Future generations will remember this time, and I’m going to be here to document it!”

He waved his hands around, gesturing at the chaotic scene of the tent encampment surrounding us. “Just look at it all. Don’t you find it thrilling?”

“I totally agree,” I said, feeling excitement building in my chest.

We were treated to occasional glimpses of grouse and deer, which excited James, though he seemed intimidated to hear that bears also sometimes roamed near the camp.

As we sat around our campfire that first evening, while Higgins went off to scribble in his journal, I discussed my plans with Edward, Skiff, and Fleure.

“I have decided it’s time to make use of my Hudson’s Bay Company connections,” I began. “I still have my discharge papers and record of service. Tomorrow, I plan on using them and requesting an interview with Governor Douglas at James Bay House, where he apparently lives.”

“For what purpose?” Edward asked.

“Well, Douglas must be worried about the arrival of so many Americans around his fort. His biggest fear is what the Crown fears — seeing this territory annexed to America.

“Since the first miners came north in April, Fort Victoria and parts of the mainland have been inundated with people, mostly Americans. Look around us, Edward, at this sea of humanity.

“The so-called pastoral existence of the old Fort Victoria is no longer, so one of its immediate problems is what to do with all these people who want to get to the mainland and onto the Fraser. I’ve heard some have tried to build their own small crafts to cross the Strait and perished in the attempt. Maybe I can help in this regard, for a price.”

He smiled. “I’m beginning to see your plan, McBride.”

Young James began jumping up and down. “Uncle Gideon, you mean that you will sail the ships across to the mainland.”

“That’s the plan, James. But I need to build more stern-wheelers. They’re perfect for negotiating the Fraser, at least as far as Boston Bar or Lytton.”

I spread out a map on the ground, which we all studied intensely. “Later we might even challenge the Upper Fraser, depending on the diggings. And for all that, I will need more money.”

“Ah,” said Caldwell, “and that will depend on our first trip upriver ourselves.”

“That’s only part of it.”

Edward still seemed anxious to see the gold fields for himself, and his enthusiasm spurred me on. I was somewhat surprised that this very proper English gentlemen was so enthusiastic about exploring the gold fields— but then there was no accounting for the lure of that which glitters.

James looked at his father. “Can I come gold hunting too, Father?”

“No, my boy. You would need to stay here with Fleure. It will be a very rough adventure. Far too rough an undertaking for a young chap like you.”

James was not happy with his father’s answer and told Edward as much.

I listened to their conversation back and forth, but I was thinking of something else entirely. Looking for gold to make my plans come true was risky. In many ways, the dream of gold was a lot like gambling, and I’d learned a hard lesson about that kind of folly.

To achieve my goal, I needed friends in high places.

Come hell or high water, I planned to meet with the Governor tomorrow and persuade him to give me a loan.

Jane Hopkins’ arrival in 1862:

The night the SS. Tynemouth docked in Esquimalt, Mrs. Robb came down to our quarters, her hands placed firmly on her hips. “You won’t be able to disembark immediately. I’m afraid you must stay aboard tonight.”

Everyone groaned.

Early the next morning, after the other passengers left the vessel, we were allowed above deck. Circling us were men in small boats who pointed and called out to us. “Ah, the lovely bundle of crinolines has finally arrived!”

Mrs. Robb tutted and complained to Reverend Scott, who passed on her concerns to the captain, so he kept us aboard for a second night for our safety.

Finally on September 19, the gunboat the H.M.S. Forward transported us from Esquimalt Harbor around to Victoria Harbor. Once we arrived, they rowed us ashore in smaller boats to the dockside.

Buckets of soap and water awaited us so that we could do our laundry — in full view of the curious crowd gathered there to inspect us.

“Why do we have to wash our clothes in front of everyone?” Alice said.

What on earth were we supposed to do with wet clothes? Both Mrs. Robson and the Reverend Scott complained on our behalf to the captain, who came over to speak to us.

“This is standard procedure, ladies. The harbor port requires you to do this in case you have brought disease or bugs with you on your clothing.”

“Jesus Christ!” screamed Betty. “We’re women, not pieces of meat or rotting vegetables. The only bugs around were already on your ship, not on us.”

As if being forced to wash our clothes in front of an ogling crowd wasn’t enough, one of the officials ordered us to march in file, two by two. I picked up my wet clothing, stuffed it into my valise, and mustered as much of my pride as I could.

Pulling back my shoulders, I held up my chin and began the long walk through the milling crowds that grew increasingly boisterous by the minute.

Walking like a lady was out of the question. I couldn’t move without swaying, let alone march. I must have looked like a drunken sailor. The motion of the sea was still with me, and my stomach heaved with every step.

The crowd closed in on us, and some of the men poked us and jeered in accents I’d never heard before.

Why had I chosen to come to this awful place?

When I put out my hand to push the crowds aside, I tripped and fell to the ground. Stumbling to my feet, I felt a large hand on my elbow, gently helping me up.

“My name is Gideon McBride,” he said in English, but with a strange brogue, I didn’t recognize. “And this is my friend, Edward Caldwell, and his son, James. I hope you’re all right, miss.”

I lifted my head, and through a blur of faces, I saw a tall man smiling down at me, his dark eyes filled with concern. He had a rugged look, reddish-brown hair, and a full beard. The other man with him was clean-shaven and slightly shorter. Both men were well dressed.

But I didn’t want their pity. Mumbling my thanks, I regained my balance and moved on, my head held high.

When we reached the shelter of the James Bay Barracks, Mrs. Robb assigned us a bed each. The welcoming committee had prepared food for us on long tables, and while we ate, they passed around lists of available positions in New Westminster on the mainland and in Victoria. There were no positions for governesses. I was devastated.

“Now that the citizens of Victoria have had a chance to look you over, more positions will probably be added,” Mrs. Robb said. “You’ll find them on the notice board over there.” I hoped she was right.

Although my first impression of Victoria by the harbor had not been the best, I had no desire to board yet another boat and travel to the mainland to this place called New Westminster. I was determined to find a position in Victoria.

After our meal, Alice and I joined a few of the others outside for some fresh air. The sun was shining now, and I could see beautiful, snow-capped mountains in the distance. I slowly began to feel more like myself.

Two days later, Mrs. Robb took us all to church, and we were forced to listen to another sermon by Reverend Scott. “Remember your religious duties,” he said, “and at all times be a credit to your mothers from whom you are forever separated.”

Some of the women wept. Some even laughed with scorn, but I sat sullenly on my uncomfortable hard-backed chair silently protesting that it was my mother who had separated herself from me a long time ago, not the other way around.

“Rely on providence for comfort whenever you might be beset by sin and temptation,” he reminded us.

I walked back to the barracks with the other women, and it felt good to stretch my legs after months of being cramped inside the ship. Some women had already decided to leave for New Westminster that afternoon, and Alice was one of them.

“I’m applying for that job as a scullery maid in a big house on Royal Avenue in New Westminster, so I’ll be going over there, Jane,” she said.

“Remember, that means you have to travel on another ship, Alice!”

“But Mrs. Robb says it’s only a short trip across the strait. And the job sounds wonderful. There are no domestic positions like it here in Victoria.”

“Well, good luck, Alice.”

“Thank you, Jane,” she said. “I will never forget your help. You gave me so much strength. Now, I can face anything.” She flung herself into my arms.

But even before we bade those girls goodbye, I was already thinking about my own future, and I was worried. I needed to find something quickly before my money ran out.

I glanced over at the notice board inside the barracks once again. And that’s when I noticed a new notice had been placed low down on the board. It hadn’t been there earlier. It appeared to be the only governess job available in Victoria:

Mr. Edward Caldwell requires a governess for his ten-year-old son, James. The applicant should be proficient in mathematics, literature, the arts, and music. Meet Mr. Caldwell at the Windsor Hotel on Government Street at 2 p.m. on Tuesday, September 23, for an interview.

Caldwell? I knew that name from somewhere.

Then, I remembered. The man called Captain McBride, who helped me up when I fell on the dock, had introduced his friend to me as Mr. Edward Caldwell and the boy with them was James.

I hastily wrote down the name and the address and told Mrs. Robb about my decision to interview for the job.

I had to get this job tomorrow.

Valerie Green will be signing all four books in The McBride Chronicles series (Providence, Destiny, Legacy and Tomorrow, the latest) at Indigo Books, Mayfair, on Sunday Nov. 17th, from 11 a.m. to 3 pm.